A Night Out
by Arawna
Summary: Harry and 'the Gang' go on a night out.


Disclaimer: I own nothing about Harry Potter. Nope, that right belongs to JKR and anyone else who's legally involved with it.

* * *

Harry, Hermione, and Ron crowded into a booth with Ginny, Seamus, Dean, and Neville. It was their monthly get together/night out. They'd decided that after the war, they deserved to have more fun in their lives and all agreed to meet up every month and go to some club or restaurant as chosen by a member of the group. This night in particular was Harry's choice and, to the misfortune of the others in the group, he had chosen Karry a Key, the only wizarding karaoke club in London. Let me explain this, Harry liked to sing and he liked to sing in front of people. Unfortunately, since he was Harry Potter, no one dared to tell him that he was crap at singing, and couldn't 'karry a key'. On top of that, he couldn't sing masculine, 'manly' songs. Nope, he had to sing love songs...that were originally sung by women, with many, many references to 'him' or 'he'. Yeah, that didn't help the group's embarrassment issues any. His friends knew his sexual preferences, did he really have to proclaim them to a different crowd of strangers every couple of months?

Of course, Harry was also a critic of everyone else. He could never just sit and listen to the others who braved to get up and do their number; no, he had to comment to his friends how crap they were at singing. There were many times when Hermione wanted to comment about pots and kettles, but bit her tongue.

Fortunately for the group, however, Harry always insisted to go somewhere in the middle; he was too nervous to go first, and there weren't enough people by the time the night began to wind down. And, seeing as how the club was packed, there was a good chance that the 'middle' would be a good distance away, far enough off that they'd have a decent amount of alcohol in them by the time Harry got up to sing.

The first couple of wizards to chance humiliation were easy on the ears of the group in the booth - with the exception of Harry, of course. A witch in a skimpy red dress took the stage. Her soft brown hair danced around her face as she swayed to the music of _In My Dreams_. Her voice carried across the audience and many men were proposing to her from where they sat.

"She's shit," Harry judged, taking a sip of his alcoholic concoction.

"Shut up, mate, she's good," Ron retorted. "If it weren't for the fact that I love 'Mione from the bottom of my heart, I'd probably be asking her to marry me."

This earned him an elbow to the ribs from his wife.

"Yeah, me too," Seamus responded with a grin. "Well, except for the whole 'loving 'Mione' part."

"You wouldn't ask her to marry you, you ponce," Dean scolded.

The Irishman shrugged. "You're right, I probably wouldn't."

"Thank Merlin, it's over," Harry groaned, burying his head in his arms that were crossed on the table.

Everyone else at the table rolled their eyes and sighed.

The twang of an electric guitar filled the room, followed by a spoken "_Let's go_!"

"No way," Hermione breathed. "I haven't heard this song in forever."

"I'm glad for you, Herm," came Harry's muffled reply.

_"Don't wantcha for the weekend, don't wantcha for a night._

_I'm only interested if I can have you for life, yeah."_

"Oh, Merlin, I know that voice," Harry commented, lifting his head from his arms.

_"I know I sound serious and baby I am,_

_You're a fine piece of real estate, and I'm gonna get me some land."_

"No fucking way," Seamus said in a disbelieving tone that matched everyone else's expressions.

_"Oh, yeah. So don't try to run, honey, love can me fun._

_There's no need to be alone when you find that someone."_

"It can't be," Ron accused.

_"I'm gonna getcha while I gotcha in sight,_

_I'm gonna getcha if it takes all night._

_You can betcha by the time I say 'go', you'll never say 'no'._

_I'm gonna getcha, it's a matter of fact,_

_I'm gonna getcha, don'tcha worry 'bout that._

_You can betcha bottom dollar, in time, you're gonna be mine,_

_Just like I should, I'll getcha good."_

"Malfoy!" the groups exclaimed in unison.

Sure enough, the platinum blonde was up on stage, belting his lungs out into the microphone.

"When did he learn to sing?" Ginny asked, mostly to herself than to the group. "And when did he become so gorgeous?"

"GINNY!" Ron scolded his baby sister.

"My dear little red-headed female friend," Harry said in an almost sympathetic tone. "Draco Malfoy has _always_ been gorgeous, you just failed to notice before now."

Six heads swiveled to gawk open-mouthed at Harry who shrugged at them. "I have eyes."

"_You_ fancy _Malfoy_?" Ron accused.

"No, I just have eyes," Harry explained again. "He's hot, and has been since we were in school."

"Either way, you'd think he'd learn to wear clothes properly," Neville commented. The group looked back up to the stage where Malfoy was still singing and shaking his narrow hips to the beat.

"Neville, that _is_ how you wear those clothes," Harry informed his friend. "You see, that shirt is _supposed_ to go only halfway down the abdomen. And those trousers? Yeah, they're made to rest that low. That outfit is _made _to show off as much skin as humanly possible."

"And you know this…how?" Ron asked.

"Gay men just have this natural fashion sense. It's in our genes," he explained with another shrug. "Right, Seamus?"

"Right," Seamus beamed.

"MERLIN! Is that a belly button ring?" Hermione exclaimed.

Again, heads whipped around to look at the blonde. The jewel in question shimmered with every jerk of his hips.

"I'd say it is," Dean observed.

The song ended and Malfoy fixed the mic to the stand before hopping down from the stage, which he did with a grace only a Malfoy could possess. To the surprise of the members of the group, he started toward their table. With a smirk on his face. Of course.

"Evening, Potter," the blonde Slytherin greeted as he approached. He only spared a quick glance to the rest of the Gryffindors. "And company. You sing?"

"Of course," Harry answered, sounding almost appalled.

"Well, then, let's hear whatcha got," Malfoy challenged. He didn't miss the look of horror that passed through each Gryffindor that wasn't Harry.

"Alright," Harry accepted. With that, he stood and made his way over to the stage. The 'regulars' seemed to groan to themselves when they saw exactly who was up next, but said nothing beyond that.

"_Here's to finding a good man_!"

"Merlin, not that one," Ron whined, taking his turn to bury his own head in his arms.

_"We got a bucket of Corona"_

"What the fuck is a 'corona'?" Malfoy asked.

"A Muggle alcoholic beverage," Hermione cringed as Harry began singing.

_"Enough stories to last all night_

_About the trials and tribulations _

_Of finding Mr. Right:_

_Of finding a good man."_

"He does know he's crap, doesn't he?" Malfoy asked, crossing his arms.

"We don't think so," Dean answered.

"Why don't you tell him? Aren't you his 'friends'?"

"Well, yeah, but he's kind of a…diva, about his singing," Ginny replied, wrinkling her nose.

Malfoy rolled his eyes as Harry went into the chorus. "What happened to the Gryffindor courage?"

"Flew the coop when we saw him go crazy on Voldemort," Seamus said. "We _never_ want to be on the receiving end of such wrath."

"Whatever," Malfoy sighed as Harry finished his number and jumped off the stage.

"And what do you think about _that_, Malfoy?" the dark haired man asked as he walked up to the table.

"Shit," was the one word answer.

"What?"

"Your. Singing. Was. Shit. With a capital 'S'," Malfoy replied slowly, as if explaining to a child.

Before anyone knew what was going on, Harry had thrown his arms around Malfoy. "Draco Malfoy, I love you!"

"Erm, what?" the blonde asked.

"Yeah, Harry...WHAT!?!?!" Ron screeched, whipping his head up from where it was buried in his arms.

"No one has ever told me that my singing is like nails on a chalkboard," Harry clarified, detaching himself from the Slytherin.

"I didn't say that," Malfoy said. "But why didn't I? Bloody good simile."

"You _knew_??" Ginny asked, exasperated.

"Well, yeah, I have ears," Harry said with a smirk.

"So this was a bloody test, to see if we would rather lie over hurting your feelings?" Hermione asked. "That's-that's…"

"Rather Slytherin of you, Potter," Malfoy finished.

"Yeah, what he said," Hermione said.

Harry shrugged. "Oh well. Anyway, I'm bored, wanna go do something else?"

His friends groaned and all buried their heads in their arms.

"No? Fine, I'll just go to a club with Draco here. I'm sure he's willing enough to follow me," Harry shrugged again.

It was Malfoy's turn to shrug. "Why not? If we get too hammered, I may even follow you home."

"Now _that's_ incentive to drink," Harry grinned. He then grabbed the blonde man by the arm and hauled him out the door.

"Do you think the 'letting Malfoy follow him home' thing is a good idea?" Ginny asked, staring after them.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think it will hurt him any."

"Who? Harry or Malfoy?" Ginny asked.

"Well, seeing as how Harry's gonna be the one tied up, I don't think it's gonna hurt Malfoy any," Seamus answered, taking a sip of his drink and ignoring the questioning glares.

END


End file.
